


best served cold

by harinezumi_kun



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 05:24:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/439622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harinezumi_kun/pseuds/harinezumi_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been a good plan: the return of Ni No Arashi, but this time with Nino as the victim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	best served cold

**Author's Note:**

> written for the 2011 ninoexchange :D this was very challenging, but as i said in the original post: i have come to love this fic as i do nino: with deep fondness and occasional violent urges ♥ also, big big thanks to aeslis for beta-ing and lots of moral support ;_;

Jun doesn’t know how, and he doesn’t know why, but he knows that—somehow, some way—this is all Nino’s fault.

When they had set the plan in motion, it had been going well, at first. The weather had been nice, the shoot had been under way, the streets hadn’t been too crowded, and Nino had been completely oblivious, talking animatedly with Sho about the game center they were allegedly headed to. Jun had nodded along, then, when he glanced up, had seen someone in a ski-mask come tearing around the corner in the distance, with a policeman hot on his heels. All according to plan.

The policeman had started blowing his whistle, people had shrieked and skittered out of the way. Jun had forced down his look of delight, but just as the crew had all stopped moving forward and Nino had realized something was going on, everything had gone wrong.

Suddenly, from out of the crowd, a rather burly good samaritan had thrown himself at the fleeing criminal, pinning him to the ground. As Jun and the rest of Arashi had looked on (Nino with an expression of bemused shock, and the other four in mounting horror), the policeman had staggered to a halt, his whistle giving one last dying rattle. He had stood there dumbly for a moment, until the good samaritan shouted something at him—presumably along the lines of “well, what are you waiting for?”—then, with a good deal of awkwardness and covert glances at the camera crew, had taken the thief into custody and the pair of them had hobbled away again back the way they had come.

“Wow,” Nino had said into the stunned silence, “that was surprising, huh?”

Next to him, Ohno had nodded, a look of utter confusion on his face, and Jun had decided to speak up before Leader could blurt out anything that might give them away.

“What a pain,” he sighed, channeling his annoyance into a cover-up. “I guess we’ll cut this from the recording?”

After that, the director had flustered and stammered and made up some excuse to cancel the rest of the filming and finish it another day. And the rest of Arashi had been forced to play along and hide their crushing disappointment. 

It had been a good plan, a carefully thought out and well laid plan, meticulously scheduled and closely guarded. The return of Ni No Arashi, but this time with Nino as the victim. After all these years, they would finally get their revenge. And it wouldn’t be the same clumsy attempt they had made the first time around, it would be all the same pranks he had played on them. Sure, after the first reveal he would know more were coming, but he wouldn’t know when or where and it was going to be beautiful. 

They were going to start with a fake arrest, just like the first Ni No Arashi, but this time during a location shoot in the city, and they had changed it enough so that Nino wouldn’t catch on right away and to make it a bit more dramatic. The pranks would continue more or less chronologically from there, giving them their vengeance and a nice chunk of footage to use as a new corner on Himitsu.

Except that they had not yet managed to pull a single prank.

Or, rather, a single _successful_ prank. It wasn’t even that Nino had figured it out. It was just that, somehow, things keep going wrong. 

Jun had had his suspicions after the first failed attempt, and had kept giving Nino shifty side-eyes all the way back to the van that had brought them to the shoot. He hadn’t realized he was doing it, however, until Nino had turned to stare at him pointedly.

“Can I help you?” Nino had asked with an exaggerated expression of deep concern.

Jun had blinked, decided to play dumb. “What?”

“You keep giving me that annoyed look. I can feel it. It radiates from you. Like a stink.”

Jun had punched him in the arm just because, but let it drop. No point in giving Nino the impression that something suspicious was going on and ruining all their careful planning. There was always the next attempt after all, which, coincidentally, was scheduled for the very next day. And what could go wrong, since Nino didn’t yet know he was in the middle of a prank war and wasn’t expecting a bento box spiked with plastic hamburger?

But, as the rest of Arashi had watched gleefully on a monitor in another room, Nino had devoured the bento, hamburg steak and all, without batting an eyelash. Well, inasmuch as Nino devoured anything, which is to say he just picked at most of it. Still, there had been no exclamations of disgust or surprise. His bandmates had stared at the monitor’s screen dumbly (with Nino already cracking open his DS, oblivious), completely baffled until they had heard a choking sound suddenly start up behind them. They had turned to find Tanaka the AD coughing over his lunch at the catering table and had come very quickly to the startling realization that, somehow, the wrong lunch had ended up in Nino’s dressing room.

Twice was too much of a coincidence for Jun to buy, but he couldn’t just go storming down the hall to demand Nino fess up, in case it _was_ a coincidence. 

So for a few days Jun just watched, keeping an eye on Nino to see if he evidenced any awareness of the plot against him. Unfortunately, it was pretty much impossible to tell: Nino is eccentric at the best of times, and very busy, so Jun couldn’t really be suspicious of his occasional late arrivals to filming, or of him cramming himself into private corners to fiddle with his phone for thirty minutes at a time. With all the watching he was doing, Jun also couldn’t help noticing every time Nino came in with dark circles under his eyes above his grin, or every time he rubbed surreptitiously at his lower back after a long filming for VS. Jun fought down the brief stabbings of guilt he felt by telling himself that they’re _all_ getting older and a few practical jokes never hurt anybody. 

One day, the two of them are more or less alone, waiting for their turn during a group photoshoot. Nino is watching Ohno, Sho, and Aiba doing an uncoordinated can-can, grinning to himself, when Jun decides to test his theory.

“You know, don’t you?” he says, purposefully vague, but watching Nino like a hawk and waiting for the light of recognition to come to his eyes.

It takes Nino a moment to pull his gaze away from the other three, but when he does focus on Jun, he just gives a distracted, “Hm?”

“You know,” Jun tries again, “what’s going on. You figured it out, right?”

Nino just blinks at him, brows furrowing. “Figured it out?” he repeats flatly.

Jun narrows his eyes. Nino is one of the best actors he knows, but Jun feels like after something like fifteen years he should be able to tell when Nino _is_ acting. Right now, however, Nino just looks confused and like he is becoming increasingly annoyed.

“Look,” Nino huffs after a moment, mimicking Jun’s cross-armed pose, “your laser stink-eye isn’t giving me any clues as to what you’re talking about, so—”

“It’s nothing,” Jun says quickly, changing tacks and making up a question about the schedule. But Nino watches him suspiciously for the rest of the day, and Jun decides they need a new way to make sure Nino isn’t the one foiling their plans.

*

Sho still isn’t sure why he’s doing this. Ohno would have been the obvious and less obtrusive choice to follow Nino around for a few days, or even Aiba who’s known him the longest, but Jun had insisted that Sho was the most discreet. Which Sho can’t really argue with—neither Ohno nor Aiba are especially good at keeping secrets, especially when it’s Nino, so putting them in even closer contact with him during this whole escapade is probably a bad idea.

Still, Jun’s plan for counter attack seems a bit over the top. And Nino doesn’t seem too excited to find Sho on his doorstep at 10pm.

“Uh. Hi,” Nino says, making it sound like a question. He’s dressed in a ratty tank-top and a pair of boxers, and he eyes the suitcase by Sho’s feet skeptically. “…sleepover?”

Sho puts on his most winning smile. “Actually, I have a favor to ask.” Nino is already scowling, but Sho soldiers on. “A pipe burst in my building, and it looks like they can’t get it fixed until next week. Do you mind if I crash here?”

Nino just rolls his eyes, and steps back to give Sho room to come in. “You could have at least called first,” he gripes, closing the door again after Sho steps inside.

“Yes, but you were much less likely to refuse me if I was standing right in front of you looking pitiful,” Sho points out as he slips out of his shoes. Nino’s apartment is dark, lit only by the glow from the television, where Nino is currently restarting his game of Monster Hunter.

“That was your pitiful face?” he asks. “It looked like you were trying to sell me insurance.”

Sho just chuckles and drags his suitcase towards the middle of the room. Nino is already immersed in his game, working at bringing down something large and scaly, and Sho looks around at the casual clutter surrounding him. Partly out of habit, and partly hoping to find some incriminating evidence—diagrams for anti-prank planning, secret correspondences with techs that are taking bribes—he starts straightening up. He’s reorganizing Nino’s magazine shelf when the younger man notices.

“Stop that,” Nino says distractedly. “You’ve got to be up at five tomorrow, yeah? You can take the bed, I’ll probably just stay out here.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t—I mean, I can just get out the spare futon—”

“Don’t worry about it, really, I’ll be up for a while, so.”

Nino doesn’t look away from the television, and Sho watches the silhouette of his tousled head in the flickering blue light for a moment. He looks tiny, and more than ever like the eternal seventeen-year-old he’s always labeled as, younger even, like a little kid again.

Sho walks over to the couch to rest his hands on Nino’s shoulders. “You should sleep, too, you know.”

“Yes, mom, and I’ll brush my teeth before bed, too,” Nino quips, but he glances up to give Sho a brief, grateful grin. “Goodnight, Sho-chan.”

Sho ruffles Nino’s hair, just to annoy him, then starts dragging his suitcase towards the bedroom. “Night, Nino.”

He’s not especially surprised to wake up the next morning with Nino curled up next to him in the bed, limbs tucked in tight like he’s trying to give Sho as much room as possible.

A few days go by and Nino hasn’t suspected a thing, but despite basically being in Nino’s back pocket, Sho doesn’t see any suspicious behavior. Well, any behavior more suspicious than Nino’s usual behavior—a lot of late night conbini runs and talking to his television set—and nothing to indicate that he’s been sabotaging the pranks being planned against him. So, all in all, it’s looking like the next attempt should be successful.

However, Sho is not thrilled about being the one who will have to climb into a bus containing a giant snake with Nino.

This is, of course, version two of the infamous Bear in the Bus gag that Nino originally pulled, but they wanted something that would be more specifically tailored to scare the crap out of Nino, and Aiba just happened to have connections that could get him a ten foot boa constrictor for the day. As they approach the VIP limousine bus, aside from the chills that randomly creep over his skin, Sho is feeling pretty confident about this prank. Nino is sleepy and tripping over his own feet, and Sho can’t suppress an anticipatory grin at the girlish shriek he is imagining coming out of Nino in approximately thirty seconds.

But with the way things have been going, Sho should not be surprised when a frantic looking AD comes scurrying up to him just before he can follow Nino onto the bus.

“Sakurai-san,” the tiny, frizzy-haired woman hisses, grabbing his elbow, “there’s a problem.”

“What?” Sho asks, knowing this must have something to do with why Nino isn’t running back off the bus right about now.

“We can’t find the snake.”

Sho blinks. “Excuse me?”

“It was on the bus,” she continues, eyes wide. “It was there, in his seat, where it was supposed to be, and I just stepped outside for a minute, and boas don’t usually move very fast, especially if they’ve recently been fed, which I made sure to do, but then when I got back—”

“So wait a second,” Sho interrupts. “You’re saying there is a ten foot snake loose on the bus?”

“Um. Probably,” she squeaks.

“Just get on,” says the director, suddenly at Sho’s other elbow. “We’ll wing it.”

So Sho does, to find Nino already half asleep in his bus seat, and can’t help glancing around nervously the whole time he’s getting his seatbelt fastened.

“Twitchy,” Nino complains without opening his eyes. “Did you wear the itchy underwear again?”

“No,” Sho answers, shooting him a dirty look (of course Nino would remember the incident with the wool boxers), “I just, uh. This shirt is new,” he says inanely, but Nino does not seem to care.

And the show, as usual, must go on, so the bus sets off, they pick up their guest (who is famously fond of reptiles but that’s basically irrelevant now), and go about the date-plan as if nothing is the matter. Which, technically, is true, except Sho just can’t sit still. 

Every brush of his pants leg against his ankle, every puff of the air-conditioning against his neck, every shadow that looks vaguely snake-like has Sho jumping in his seat or randomly gasping and cursing under his breath. Nino and the guest stare at him with varying levels of concern, but try to keep the Q&A corner moving forward. It’s better when they get to the location, and get _off_ the bus, and Sho prays that the snake will be located while they play racket ball and eat yakitori.

Several hours later, a brief, unobtrusive headshake from the frizzy-haired AD lets him know the boa is still at large. He climbs back onto the bus with a sigh, for another hour of jumping at his own shadow.

It is not until later that night that Sho gets a text from his manager letting him know that they had later found the snake, sleeping peacefully in one of the overhead luggage compartments, although no one has any idea how it got in there.

“No,” Sho is telling Jun over the phone the next day, “I already told him my plumbing was back on and took my stuff back home this morning.”

“But,” Jun begins. 

Sho is firm. “I’m done with espionage, you’re going to have to talk someone else into stalking Nino.”

Jun hums to himself, apparently at a loss. “And you’re sure you didn’t see him doing anything…sneaky?”

“Nothing.”

“Damn,” Jun sighs.

*

“I don’t know what happened!” Aiba says, hands in his hair, voice close to tears. “I was there when they tested it! It was working!”

“Just—calm down,” Jun says, looking like he’s regretting having snapped at Aiba a moment ago. They are all of them (minus Nino, naturally) crammed into Ohno’s dressing room after Shiyagare, while Aiba not-so-quietly freaks out. Sho is at Aiba’s side, rubbing his back comfortingly, with Jun on his other side pacing in frustration. Ohno himself is perched on the dressing table, digging in his ear with his little finger. 

“Maybe it jammed?” Ohno guesses.

“It’s a smoke-jet!” Aiba wails. “It shoots smoke! How can smoke jam?!”

“Inside voice,” Sho cautions, moving Aiba farther from the door. “Look, it wasn’t your fault. It was just…mechanical difficulties.”

Aiba appreciates Sho’s support, but even he can hear the little tremor of uncertainty in the other man’s voice. This will make the sixth prank attempt in a row that has somehow backfired or malfunctioned, and he’s been the one in charge of making sure the last three ran smoothly.

He’s still not sure what happened with the concert pranks. The first had, of course, been to get the crowd chanting the names of all the Arashi members _except_ Nino before the encore, and Aiba had been so sure that one was going to work: he had checked the fliers that would be handed out to the audience himself the day of, and had snuck a peek into the lobby to make sure they were getting handed out, he’d even had his manager buzz through the crowd to make sure people had them. He had been so, so sure—right up until the moment he heard _“Matsu-moto…Saku-rai…Ai-ba…Oh-no…NI-NO-MIYA”_ coming at top volume from the screaming crowd after the show.

The plan had been to then immediately do the roomful of chanting grannies prank, but—naturally—the dressing room had been empty of uchiwa-wielding old ladies. Nino—still puzzled over the crowd’s choice to chant all their names individually instead of just the band name like usual—had not even noticed his bandmates pause in shock at the sight of the empty dressing room. The grannies were found at an izakaya later, partying hard and having apparently completely lost track of the time.

And now, this. Aiba had been with the prop crew until just minutes before on-air, had watched them test the machine that would send a blast of smoke right down onto Nino’s head during the Shiyagare filming. But again, it had never happened. It’s a lucky thing, too, that Aiba had thought to disguise the contraption as a part of the lighting rig, because Nino had certainly noticed the confused looks his bandmates kept throwing towards this ceiling. When he asked what they were all looking at, Sho muttered something about a blinking light and Nino just shook his head.

“It’s _Nino_ ,” Jun insists, throwing his hands up and coming to a stop. Instead of pacing any more in the three feet of space he has, he starts gnawing at a thumbnail, something he hasn’t done since before the nail-polish phase. “I _know_ he’s doing this, he has to be—”

“But Jun, that’s impossible,” Sho points out. “Aiba made sure Nino was being watched. Right?”

“Yeah,” Aiba confirms. “You were keeping him busy, right, Leader?”

It takes a moment for Ohno to bring his attention back to the present, but when he does, he smiles serenely. “Yeah. We were very busy.”

“Gross,” Jun mutters, “you guys seriously need to knock that shit off at work.”

Ohno opens his mouth for a reply, but before he can say anything the handle of the locked door rattles. Everyone freezes and turns at the sound of a soft knock.

“Oh-chan?” comes Nino’s voice. “Open up. It’s me.”

“ _Shitshitshit_ ,” Sho hisses and starts spinning in place, looking for somewhere to hide.

“The closet!” Aiba whispers frantically, shoving Sho and Jun towards the closet door. The space inside is barely two feet by two feet and already has several coats inside.

“Just tell him to go away!” Jun tries, but Aiba has already squeezed the closet shut. Fitting all three of them in the tiny space involves Aiba being sandwiched chest-to-chest and back-to-front with Sho and Jun respectively, and at any other time he would probably be enjoying this a whole lot more, but right now he’s just doing his best to breathe without making any noise.

Aiba hears the door to the dressing room open and Nino say: “What was all that noise? Were you moving furniture or something?”

“Hm?” is Ohno’s clever reply.

“And I thought I heard voices…”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Ohno answers nonsensically. Aiba can practically _feel_ Jun rolling his eyes—from anyone else, this is an excuse Nino would never buy, but when it’s Ohno, all Nino says is “huh”.

“So,” Nino continues a moment later with a grin in his voice. “We didn’t really finish what we were doing before filming started…”

There’s a rustle, a thump, and a startled little “oh!” from Ohno. Sho quickly presses his face into Aiba’s shoulder and covers his ears, while Jun just mutters, “Goddammit, really?”

After a couple minutes of noises that have Aiba’s imagination working overtime, Ohno manages to detach himself and say something about finishing at home.

“Are you serious?” Nino whines. “I already had to wait through three hours of filming, are you seriously going to cock-block me right now?”

“If we were at home,” Ohno begins, but he whispers the rest of whatever it is they could do at home too quietly for the trio in the closet to hear. Nino starts chuckling low and breathy.

“Well,” he says, “when you put it that way. Come on, then, I’ll get cranky if you take any longer.”

Ohno just laughs quietly at this. Aiba can feel how Jun’s brow is furrowed where it is now pressed against the back of Aiba’s neck. There are shufflings and rustlings as Ohno gathers up his things and Nino carries on a mostly one-sided conversation about what he needs to buy at the grocery store on the way home, and then they head out the door. In the pause just after it has closed, Aiba hears a little _snick_ that sounds a lot like someone locking the door from the outside.

“Did you just hear the door lock, too?” Jun asks, sounding completely done with the whole mess.

“Yeah,” Aiba sighs. “Sho-chan, you can unplug your ears, they left.”

It only takes them about ten minutes to escape Ohno’s dressing room, as Jun luckily has his cellphone on him and calls his manager to let them out. While they wait, they debate over whether Ohno just completely forgot the rest of his band was in the closet and so locked the door behind him, or if this somehow part of Nino’s evil anti-prank campaign. 

“Well, I think we’ve learned one important thing from this experience,” Aiba says sagely once they’re back in their own dressing room.

“What’s that?” Jun asks, sliding on his shades.

“That when it comes to Nino, we really just need to leave him to Leader.”

*

The list of Ni No Arashi pranks they have been working from is down to two, and these have been left to Ohno for several reasons.

The first reason is that these particular pranks were originally perpetrated against Ohno individually rather than against the group as a whole, and as such the staff feels that it’s only right for Ohno himself to perpetrate them himself in revenge. The second is that, of all the original pranks, these are the two that were the hardest to arrange situations for, and the ones to most likely piss Nino off when committed. One of these is the Haunted Hotel Room prank, but after much debate, they eliminate this from the list as being too hard to set up, and too easy for Nino to figure out quickly.

And so now, the hopes of the whole band and all the staff are pinned on this final attempt: the Coughing Up Blood prank. They’ve worked it out that Nino and Ohno will appear on the first team-version of the Shiyagare corner, learning how to box, and at some point during their final bout Ohno will let himself get hit in the gut and then proceed to spew fake blood all over Nino.

Honestly, Ohno’s pretty much over the whole thing. While he does think it would be funny if they actually managed to beat Nino at his own game, Ohno’s never been one for holding a grudge or getting revenge. Plus, keeping secrets isn’t Ohno’s favorite thing, and it’s doubly hard when it’s Nino, who is usually attached to Ohno at the hip and more often that not spends the night in Ohno’s bed. Today is no exception.

“Oh-chaan,” Nino says, waving a hand in front of Ohno’s vacant eyes. “Where are you? You get enough sleep last night?”

Ohno straightens up in his chair, trying to put together some semblance of awareness. They’re still in the green room, waiting to go out into the studio in just a few minutes, and Ohno’s been running over what he needs to do—he’s got the blood capsule in his pocket, he’ll slip it into his mouth before the bout—and brings his focus back to Nino with some difficulty.

“Yeah, fine. Just, you know, wondering who we’re meeting.”

Nino shakes his head and—since there’s no one else around to see—reaches over to run his thumb over the soft skin beneath Ohno’s eye thoughtfully, affectionately.

“You just seem a little farther outside of orbit than usual today.”

“I’ll come back down later,” Ohno promises earnestly, which earns him a pat on the head.

Two minutes later they’re headed into the studio, nodding to Michelle and Mirième as they step into the curtained set. Nino makes the usual inane comments (“What’ll it be today? Well, here we go!”) while Ohno just stares hard at the red velvet in front of him. At the last moment, he glances over at Nino to find the other man looking back at him, and that’s when he sees it.

Nino knows.

When Ohno catches Nino’s eye, there’s a little smirk on his face, different from the usual—resigned, almost—and somehow Ohno knows that Nino knows, and that he’s decided to let it happen. As the buzzer sounds, Ohno raises an eyebrow, lets Nino know he’s been found out, and Nino just ducks his head a little bashfully as the lights go out.

The rest of the shoot goes as planned: they’re greeted by a hulking, muscly boxer on the other side of the curtain, who proceeds to give them a number of tips on good boxing form and strategy and then sends them off to a gym for training and a practice bout. They go through the motions, eventually gearing up and climbing into the ring. Ohno slips the capsule full of fake blood in with his mouth guard when Nino’s back is turned, and is now facing Nino down over his raised gloves.

He must still look a little unsure, because Nino gives him the tiniest of reassuring nods before making a clumsy swing. After a little back and forth, Ohno purposefully leaves Nino and opening, and as predicted Nino takes it, landing a fairly solid punch to Ohno’s gut (so much for hoping Nino might go easy on him).

Ohno keels over dramatically, and Nino reacts with a great show of concern, offering an arm to help Ohno to his feet. Once he’s upright again, Ohno glances at Nino for just a split second before biting down on the capsule.

The look on Nino’s face when Ohno sprays fake blood all over him is pretty priceless—just the right mix of shock, horror, and disgust—before it dissolves into annoyance.

“This is all a joke!” he whines to an already laughing Ohno. “You scared me!” 

And then, as everyone who watches Arashi regularly would surely expect, Nino goes storming out of the ring in high dudgeon, and Ohno is forced to chase him down. The staff brings him a little strip of paper that reads “Ni no Arashi: Revenge!!” and he flashes it at the camera with a peace sign. They record a few more minutes of Nino complaining, and then wrap up so the two of them can go change.

“You knew the whole time?” Ohno asks in the locker room after pulling his shirt over his head.

Nino is removing his own t-shirt with exaggerated care, trying his best not to get any of the syrupy prop blood on himself.

“Knew what the whole time?” Nino replies, but there’s a still a little smirk on his face when he says it.

“But how did you do it?” Ohno wonders aloud, exchanging shorts for jeans and shrugging into a button-down.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Nino says, flourishing his clean shirt like a cape.

Ohno gives him a blank, patient stare. Nino flutters the shirt in front of his face a few more times, but when Ohno doesn’t respond, he sighs theatrically and tugs it on. He reemerges with his hair tousled and still looking very pleased with himself.

“All right, fine, but not a word to the others.” He holds up a hand when Ohno starts to protest. “I only let you get me this time because I didn’t want to break their little hearts, okay? So, promise.”

Ohno grudgingly agrees, and Nino fishes around in his bag before pulling out a heavily battered sheet of paper. It is wrinkled, crumpled, folded and refolded, and—when Nino sits himself down next to Ohno on the locker room bench and opens it—looks suddenly very familiar.

“Aiba’s handwriting,” Ohno says. He blinks a few times and then throws his head back, laughing high and bright. “He took _notes_ at the planning meeting? Seriously?”

“And then he left them in his bag right next to his snacks, like he doesn’t know I nick his Choco Babies all the time,” Nino says with long-suffering fondness. 

“Didn’t he notice they were missing?” Ohno says, once he’s got his giggles under control. From somewhere outside the room a manager calls for them to hurry up.

“What kind of evil mastermind do you take me for?” Nino huffs as he shoulders his bag. “I made a copy and put the original back where I found it.”

“Oh,” Ohno says, but now they’re headed back out to join the staff, and he lets it go for the time being.

It’s not until much later that he realizes Nino never really answered his question.

“But how did you _do_ it?” he asks again. Nino is a warm, noodle-limbed weight across his chest, mostly asleep already, and just noses into his shoulder sleepily. “I mean, I know you found Aiba’s notes, but how did you arrange everything?”

“Classified information,” Nino grumbles, throwing a leg over Ohno’s hip and pulling to older man against him like a body pillow. A moment later, his breathing has evened out and Ohno resigns himself to that fact that some things about Nino will always be a mystery.

***

Nino walks into his manager’s office, shutting the door quietly behind him. The woman looks up from her computer, raising an eyebrow when Nino doesn’t say anything right away.

When he slides the copy he just made of Aiba’s notes across the desk to her, her other eyebrow jumps up as well, before they both come back down in a concerned line.

“You knew about this, too?” he asks.

His manager clears her throat a little awkwardly. “Well, um. I didn’t exactly—that is, I _knew_ , but—”

“I’m not angry,” he reassures her, although she doesn’t look particularly reassured by the wicked smile on his face.

“Oh? Well, then…”

He smiles wider. “It’s just that I’ve got an _even better_ idea…”


End file.
